


A Twisted Sort of Sister

by BrunetteAuthorette99



Series: Heroine Without Honor [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Sitting Around and Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrunetteAuthorette99/pseuds/BrunetteAuthorette99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babette has an enlightening conversation with the newest member of the Dark Brotherhood.</p><p>One-shot. Takes place before <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2301317/chapters/5062256"><em>The Bear and the Wolf.</em></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Twisted Sort of Sister

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I really like writing about my OCs from the perspective of _Skyrim_ NPCs.
> 
> Another one-shot of mine transplanted from FF.net - with a few modifications to fit Kajsa's updated backstory.

Eyes gleaming and jointed legs feeling about the ground, the frostbite spider scuttled around in the pit below the alchemy lab’s overlook. Babette sat in a rickety wooden chair by the log ramp leading down, her legs crossed under her skirts as she leaned over her knees in thoughtful contemplation of Lis and wondered when she could harvest some more venom.

While not _strictly_ an alchemical ingredient, frostbite venom was incredibly useful. On its own, it wasn’t the best of poisons, but it was reliable and easy enough to collect. Lately, Babette had been taking to experimentally adding it to some of her more dangerous mixtures – like the skeever tail, eye of sabre cat, and giant lichen concoction cooling on the alchemy lab right now – just to see what it would do.

Truth was, she was bored out of her mind. Stuck inside the Sanctuary for most of the time, the vampire couldn’t even remember the last time she’d gotten a contract. Sure, the other members of the Family purchased her poisons and lavished her with praise when they worked, but killing people indirectly just wasn’t the same.

 _Sometimes, I think they forget that_ I’m _the oldest of all of them,_ she pouted. _They should know I’m hardly innocent by now._

“Do you mind if I use this?”

Babette swiveled around in her seat, gripping the back of the chair to keep her position. The voice belonged to a woman – Nord by her voice, but slight enough in build to be a Breton – wearing the traditional black-and-maroon Brotherhood leathers, with the cowl hanging loosely around her neck like a scarf and an ornate dagger hanging by her hip.

“The alchemy lab?” The vampire scrambled out of the chair and carefully removed her latest poison, placing it on a nearby table. “Go ahead.”

Nodding in thanks, the woman fished out an apothecary’s satchel from a pouch at her side and set it down on the rounded table by a half-completed fear poison. Now that she was closer, Babette could make out some more details of her face. It had flat planes and sharp, high cheekbones, all surrounded by short hair with scattered braids the color of raw umber. Dark and narrow eyes and three pale scars on her left cheek dominated her face.

The longer she scrutinized the woman’s face, Babette came to realize that it was a face she’d seen before. While regaling the other members of the Family with a story of one of her favorite contracts, the vampire had noticed Astrid talking to someone – _this_ woman using the alchemy lab – and handing her a tightly folded bundle of what could only be Brotherhood leathers.

“I know you!” Babette cried triumphantly, nearly causing the other to drop her mortar in surprise. “You’re the new recruit, right?”

The woman turned around and smiled; as slight as the gesture was, it softened her sharp, cold face immensely. “Yes, I am. Babette, is it?”

“That’s me,” the vampire said proudly. “Astrid’s told me all about you.” In truth, the leader of the Sanctuary had mentioned a new recruit in passing, but when Babette had pestered her for a little extra information, Astrid was more than happy to oblige.

“Oh, really?” Putting down the mortar, the woman leaned back against the alchemy lab, one eyebrow arched. “What did she say?”

“She told me your name is Kajsa Red-Blade, and that you stole the contract on that mean Grelod the Kind from us, so she pulled the ole’ ‘choose your victim’ gag with you and then offered you an invitation into the Dark Brotherhood. Ah, I _love_ that one.” Babette sighed happily, but wracked her brain for more information and came up with nothing. “In any case, it’s great to finally meet you!”

Kajsa shook the vampire’s proffered hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Babette.”

“You’re going to love it here,” Babette enthused. “We have a lot of fun, and we look out for each other. Just like any family – what’s wrong?” she asked worriedly as a shadow passed over the other’s face.

“Nothing.” Leaving the alchemy lab, Kajsa sat on the overlook and dangled her legs over the edge. “Just something I seem to hear a lot.”

“What?” The vampire joined her. “‘You’re going to love it here’? ‘We have a lot of fun’? ‘We look out for each other’?”

“‘Family,’” Kajsa said flatly.

“Oh.” The other members of the Sanctuary considered themselves brothers and sisters; blood families were nothing compared to _their_ Family, which spilled blood together. “Are they dead?”

Kajsa nodded.

“I’m sorry. You know,” Babette confided in a very little voice, scooting closer to Kajsa, “my family’s dead, too.” _Time for my little act._

She took a deep breath. “The Dark Brotherhood killed my mama and papa, and then they took me captive!” The vampire clutched at the woman’s arm. “Please, _please_ help me!”

Kajsa glanced down at her, a flicker of alarm in her eyes.

“Rather convincing, don’t you think?” Babette grinned devilishly. “In truth, I’m no more a little girl than you are. I was once, of course. Three hundred years ago. Vampirism tends to keep one remarkably... fresh.”

Kajsa’s face tightened and her body tensed.

“What?” the girl giggled. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of vampires.”

“I’m not.” Kajsa averted her gaze. “It’s just not a path that I’d like to follow.”

“Why not?”

“My mother died because of Sanguinare Vampiris.” She swallowed, her eyes narrowing. “Supposedly, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Babette asked before she could stop herself. “Was she a vampire herself?”

“Almost. She contracted the disease and wasn’t able to cure it in time. So she built a bonfire and threw herself on it... or at least, that’s what her bastard of a partner told us.” Kajsa’s face was like stone. “She left a note. Said that she didn’t want to harm us, but I think her death hurt my father more than any disease could.”

Shocked, the vampire wasn’t quite sure how to respond at first. “So... that’s what you meant when you said...”

“Unfortunately, my mother wasn’t the only one.” Propping her elbows on her knees, Kajsa rested her chin on her fists. “My father’s dead, too. Been that way for seven years now. I’m fairly sure that I have no relatives left alive.”

“Welcome to the club, then,” Babette said. “We’re all orphans in the Dark Brotherhood.”

There was silence for a moment after that statement. Inexplicably, the vampire’s gaze drifted to the dagger at the other’s hip. It appeared to be made of silver or highly polished steel, with a round black stone set in the pommel and a pointed crossguard. The black leather sheath was embossed with the symbol of an Oblivion gate.

“This is a really pretty dagger.” Babette reached out and stroked the handle with one finger. “Where’d you get this? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The new recruit smiled, a little more slyly than before. “Would you believe me if I said I got it from a Daedric Prince?”

“Maybe,” the vampire said cautiously. “Did you?”

“Of course. This is Mehrunes’ Razor, the Daedric artifact of Mehrunes Dagon himself.” Kajsa drew the blade, caressing it almost lovingly. “Of course, I had to go find all of the pieces first for one Silus Vesuius, formerly located in Dawnstar. He wanted to open a museum dedicated to the Mythic Dawn cult; unfortunately, he didn’t have the whole dagger, so he charged me to locate the pieces.”

“‘Formerly’?”

Kajsa shrugged, sheathing the dangerous weapon. “Vesuius tried to summon Mehrunes Dagon to repair the blade, and the Prince refused. I had to kill him and some summoned Dremora in order to retrieve this, but I think it was worth it.”

“You met... a Daedric Prince?” Babette’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy?”

“No crazier than a three-hundred-year-old assassin who looks no more than nine and keeps a giant frostbite spider as a pet,” Kajsa snapped. “Yes, I occasionally commune with the Daedra. So?”

“Just kind of odd, that’s all,” the vampire mumbled defensively. “I mean, you’re a Nord. Last time I checked, Nords prefer their warrior gods and Sovngarde over Daedra.”

“Half-Breton,” Kajsa corrected, not unkindly. “And to be honest, the Daedra are just more... _tangible_ than any god or goddess I’ve ever known.” She lazily swung her legs back and forth. “Besides, the Nine have toyed with my life quite enough. I would be stupid to accept gifts from the Princes without question, but they’ve done much more for me than the conventional faith.”

“You’ll find that the Dark Brotherhood doesn’t care much about whether you prefer Aedra over Daedra, or the other way around – only if you honor Sithis. And believe me when I say that he’s _plenty_ tangible around here.” Babette grinned again, but her expression turned thoughtful. “Out of curiosity, though... was Mehrunes Dagon the only Daedric Prince you’ve met? Do you have other Daedric artifacts?”

“Why so interested?”

“I’ve met a lot of strange people in my lifetime, but you –” the vampire poked the other playfully “– are the only _living_ Daedra worshipper I’ve ever had the occasion to speak to.”

“I don’t necessarily ‘worship’ the Daedra,” Kajsa sighed. “I’m a Daedric Champion.”

“You’re still the only one I’ve ever met.” The vampire crossed her legs and leaned her head on the new recruit’s shoulder. “How many Daedric Princes call you their Champion?”

Kajsa’s eyes narrowed as she mentally counted. “Quite a few. It doesn’t mean I pay the same respect to all of them, though – I’ve actually managed to piss off a couple.”

“What about their artifacts?” Babette said excitedly. “Can I see any others? Or have any?” she added craftily.

Kajsa thought. “See, yes. Have... depends. But if you’d like the Wabbajack,” she amended, “I’d be more than happy to give it away; I barely use it.”

“Why not? I’d _love_ to be able to turn my targets into sweet rolls.”

“I prefer to trust in my blades over magic,” Kajsa said stiffly. “Besides, it has an irritating tendency to transform my enemies into Dremora Lords. Perhaps you’ll have better luck with it than I.”

The vampire grinned ecstatically and nearly clapped her hands with glee. “Will you bring it to me the next time you come?”

“I’ll try.” Casually ruffling Babette’s hair, Kajsa smiled, almost dotingly so. “For a three-hundred-year-old, you’re rather lively, aren’t you?”

“The spirit of fun lives on in me, I guess,” Babette said honestly with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Honestly, I love being a kid for this long.”

Kajsa laughed and stood up, stretching lithely. “We’ll speak again as soon as I finish my contracts. I’ll bring the Wabbajack and perhaps some poisons for you – promise.”

“So... you’re _not_ scared of me, then?” Babette asked hopefully, eagerly. “I hope not, ‘cause I want you as my sister.”

“Not of you, no. And... I think I’d like that as well.” With the smile renewed on her face, Kajsa snatched up her satchel and supplies from the alchemy table, and then vanished down one of the shadowy hallways and out of sight.

Curling up beside the vacated chair, the vampire briefly pondered the nature of this strange woman before realizing that there were some things that couldn’t be understood or explained in full. Like how Festus loved burning his meals to a crisp, or how Arnbjorn referred to everyone else as cuts of meat, or how Gabriella had a fascination with unicorns and crochet – Kajsa’s mercurial nature and her getting on the bad side of some Daedra while becoming the champion of others were just like that.

Deep in her gut, Babette sensed that the half-Nord would be one to keep an eye on.

Discreetly, of course. Nothing less for a seemingly innocent child.

 


End file.
